


Hallows United

by pie_is_good



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pie_is_good/pseuds/pie_is_good
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all three Hallows are united at once, things do not quite go as expected. Set during DH with an alternate ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallows United

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



Harry wanted the Hallows.

He didn’t really know why, exactly, but he couldn’t get them out of his mind. He knew that the Horcruxes were more important, as Voldemort couldn’t be destroyed without those.

The Hallows just wouldn’t leave him.

He forced himself to think of the Horcruxes, of course, but sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d find himself holding the Invisibility Cloak in his hands. His mind would idly wander to the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone, unable to focus on the task at hand. The Stone interested him more than the Wand, and thoughts of meeting his parents and seeing Sirius and apologizing to Cedric became less and less fleeting as the days passed.

But one day, the game changed, and Voldemort had finally found the Elder Wand. Harry saw it, felt it, and something snapped him out of his Hallows-based stupor.

They had to finish this.

And they did. They found the Cup, the Diadem. All destroyed.

So much destruction.

Eventually, Harry found himself following Voldemort’s orders. He knew he had to go to the Forest.  
He knew that it would be the end for him, but he would have served his purpose. Neville knew what to do next. Voldemort would never win. He knew all of this, and yet he found himself using the Stone for strength. Strength through those he had lost.

As he walked, he found it harder and harder to convince himself to say good-bye to his parents and Sirius and Remus, though he knew it would not be long until he would see them again. Still, something did not let him abandon the Stone among the twigs and leaves on the Forest floor, and instead of dropping it casually at his side to forever blend with the other stones as he had planned, he slipped it into his pocket.

He knew he should have let it go, but he couldn’t.

Little did he know, that would really be the end.

***

It was over.

Nagini destroyed at Neville’s hand; Voldemort by Harry’s. Harry still didn’t quite understand how he had survived, but he had. So had Ron and Hermione, much to his relief, though there were countless others who had not. He tried not to think about them. He just didn’t have the energy right then.

He walked away from the celebration in the Great Hall, slipping past even Ron and Hermione. He didn’t feel like celebrating. He had meant to just lean against the crumbling walls of the castle, away from everyone, but instead, he just kept going. He walked out to the lake, ignoring the signs of the deadly battle all around him and choosing to see only the gorgeous May weather. In past years, he sat out here at this time of year, enjoying his friends and the sun, talking and laughing. Maybe someday, he would do that again.

Harry kneeled down on the shore of the lake, pebbles pressing into his knees through the holes that had been torn in his trousers. He pulled out the Wand first, mesmerized by its intricate design. He reached into his pouch, the remains of his old wand in his left hand and the Elder Wand in his right. With hardly a whisper of Reparo, the Elder Wand repaired itself.

Next, Harry pulled out the Cloak, and then the Stone. He laid them together on the sand in front of him.

Suddenly, a blinding light.

Just before the world went dark.

***

When Harry came around, he did not know where he was. Everything around him felt familiar, somehow, but he didn’t think he’d ever been here before. In front of him, the three Hallows rested on the sand in front of him, exactly as he had laid them down on the shore of the lake.

Only there was no shore here. No lake, no trees, no grass. Sand and dust and rocks, as far as the eyes could see. Behind him, he heard the sound of rocks crumbling, and he turned his head, unable to believe what lie before him.

Just barely visible from the settling dust was unmistakably Hogwarts. Not Hogwarts as he had known it, but it was definitely the castle he’d grown up in. From the looks of it, the Astronomy Tower had just crumbled; a few loose stones were still falling away from what remained of the walls.

Had he imagined things? Had Hogwarts fallen? Had he failed?

Harry reached for the Elder Wand, but it disintegrated into dust before his eyes. The Cloak and the Stone both did the same. Tentatively, he reached for his own holly wand, letting out a sigh of relief when it remained whol, and he headed off towards the castle. Whatever had happened, Harry needed to see it for himself. He needed to fix it. He had to.

As he climbed the rolling hills between him and what remained of the castle, he saw what had become of the Forest. The trees had fallen, now logs rotting in a jumbled pile, and no sign of life. If the centaurs lived, they had long since moved on. 

As the castle came more into focus, Harry realized that no one had been here in years. Hogwarts was long abandoned, and the magic that normally filled the air around it had left no trace. He could see that the entryway was gone; the doors had fallen inwards. He climbed what was left of the stairs, nervously clutching his wand, and took a deep breath before he stepped into the darkness.

“Lumos,” Harry said so uncertainly that he almost thought he’d have to cast the spell again.

The battle had happened, that was for sure. Harry walked through the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall, and while there were no people, the room remained the way it had been when he had destroyed Voldemort…or thought he had, anyway.

“Homenum Revelio,” Harry whispered, almost scared to see the result, though he knew within him what the answer would be.

It was just like everything he could see. 

Nothing. There was no one. 

Harry did not want to leave Hogwarts, but he knew he must. He had to find someone – anyone – to tell him what had happened here. He needed to know. 

He didn’t even know what year it was.

He raised his wand to Apparate to Hogsmeade. He paused for a moment as Hermione’s voice echoed in his head – “You can’t Apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts!” – but he knew that the magic here was gone, and with it, the anti-Apparition wards.

Harry left Hogwarts with a crack.

To his relief, Harry found Hogsmeade still there. The destruction must have been limited to Hogwarts itself. Had Voldemort had one final spell? Something to destroy everything if he were to fail? Harry admitted to himself it didn’t much feel like something Voldemort would do. A backup plan was for people who failed. Lord Voldemort never once believed that he would fail.

Harry headed towards the Three Broomsticks, eager to see at least one friendly face, but he stopped just before opening the door.

This wasn’t the Three Broomsticks, at least not anymore. It was a Muggle pub. Harry looked at the people on the busy street and realized that every single person wore Muggle clothes. Still, Harry had to find out what was going on, and this seemed like a good a place as any to start.

“Butterbeer, please,” he said to the woman behind the bar.

“A what?” she said, staring at him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have that here...”

“Thanks anyway,” Harry said, turning back the way he had come. “Actually, ma’am, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure.”

“What’s the date?”

“The third of May, 1998.”

He left the pub, not even registering the peculiar looks the woman had given him, and he walked into the alleyway behind the pub to be alone. He sat on the ground against the back wall, trying to figure out his next move. He couldn’t be the only one to have survived. It had only been one day. It was just tomorrow.

There was no one here, but surely there had to be somebody. Somewhere.

And so Harry searched.

He searched London. He searched for the Leaky Cauldron. Grimmauld Place, the Burrow. He even tried Number 4, Privet Drive, but the house was still abandoned. He found no trace of the Dursleys.

He tried the entrance to the Ministry. He tried sending a Patronus message to every single person he could think of.

But there was no one. No trace of the magical world beyond his own magic.

The Wizarding World had fallen.

Harry Potter was alone.

***

Harry eventually had finished muggle school, thankful that he had grown up in the muggle world. He may have not survived without his years with his aunt and uncle. He grew old, he found a job, he found a wife. He did all the things he had dreamed about leaving the Dursleys and doing before the day he turned eleven.

He still did magic, sometimes, but it had to be private. No one could know. 

He had children, and he spent most of their childhoods looking for any sign of magic. Harry thought for sure he wouldn’t have three children without any magic of their own, but he never saw anything out of the ordinary. He even had them try his wand a few times to no avail. 

His wand answered only to him, and there was no Ollivander’s to try. Not even Gregorovich. Harry didn’t even own a spellbook anymore.

***

Many years later, Harry’s wife had passed, and he knew that his days were numbered, too. He surrounded himself with his children as much as he could, but they had their own lives, now, and their own children. He didn’t see them as often as he would like, but it was enough. 

It was enough because he knew he had done well. It was good that they had their lives. Their own lives. He wished they could have grown up in the world he had known, but in all his years, there was never a trace of magic beyond his own. Not once.

He never stopped looking.

Not until the morning that he no longer opened his eyes.

***

Harry awoke, and a strange man in a dark cloak stood in the distance. He said nothing. Harry sat up slowly, not sure what to do, and he realized that standing had been easy. No aches or cracks. He looked down at his hands: no liver spots, smooth skin. The hands of a teenager.

Had this all been a dream?

“It is not a dream, Harry,” the man on the stoop said, though he didn’t appear to be actually speaking aloud. “You are dead. You will move on, but I had to speak to you, first.”

“Who are you?” 

“I am Death.” Neither of them spoke for a very long time. He did not know who this man was, not really, though he was beginning to suspect, and Harry just stood there, staring and waiting for more.

But Death was waiting for him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked.

“You are the one who united the Hallows.”

“What does that mean?” Harry finally asked, growing more annoyed with every second of silence between them. Death took his time.

“The Hallows were born out of my desire for death from those who should have died, and their unity has brought death.”

“Are you saying,” Harry gulped, “that I caused everything that happened? My friends? The school? All my classmates?”

“Yes.”

“But why? How?”

“Magic is what stopped those three men, so long ago, from falling into the river. It stopped many deaths. You would have died several times over before now, had magic not stopped you.”

Death stood, gliding over to stand closer, though Harry did not dare to look him in the eye.

“You see, I created the Hallows, not only to bring me the brothers. They were meant to bring the end to all magic. Once you brought them together, it was nearly done. And now, Harry. Now you have died.”

Harry backed away, but Death kept within inches of him no matter how he moved.

“And magic is no more.”


End file.
